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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29739168">Do What You Have To</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/cjdevlin19/pseuds/CrashDevil'>CrashDevil (cjdevlin19)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Best Laid Plans Series [23]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alpha!Dean, Alpha!John, Alpha!Sam, Angst, F/M, Reader-Insert, a/b/o dynamics, mentions of panic, omega!reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 21:08:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,077</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29739168</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/cjdevlin19/pseuds/CrashDevil</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Y/n starts missing herself...and choses pain over being forced into something she doesn't want.<br/>~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br/>Sam was waiting for you in the doorway of room 108 as you approached the motel. The Impala was not in the parking lot. “Where-” you started to ask but Sam’s averted gaze answered for you. “Left so that you could help with my heat, didn’t he?”</p>
<p>“Said he didn’t wanna see it,” Sam answered.</p>
<p>“Whatever. I’m not in heat yet. He could have stuck around for a few hours.” You pushed past Sam into the room and picked up your duffel from the floor, shoving the plastic bag into the duffel and zipping it up.</p>
<p>“I think you’re closer than you think you are,” Sam said, closing the door behind him. “He said he’s gonna get a room of his own.”</p>
<p>“Sure.”</p>
<p>“What’s going on with you two?” He sprawled across the end of the bed and looked up at you. “You two were getting close again. What happened?”</p>
<p>“Nothing happened.” You shrugged. “Nothing changed. Nothing will.”</p>
<p>Sam’s eyebrow went up. “What does that mean, Y/n?”</p>
<p>“I told him how I feel, how I’ve always felt...and I thought things would change, but they haven’t. They’re not going to. So, it’s...it’s fine. I’ll deal.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dean Winchester/You, Sam Winchester/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Best Laid Plans Series [23]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1526507</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Do What You Have To</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="">
    <p> </p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p><strong>Story Warnings</strong>:  angst...A/B/O dynamics, canon divergence, mentions of physical violence against the reader, everyone feeling bad about how they've treated Y/n, did I mention angst?, heat cycles, mentions of panic disorder,</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>~~~~~~~~~~~~</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>You stared out the window, watching trees fly by as the Impala sped down the highway. Your brain was stuck on the day before. The fact that you turned Dean down...the fact that you had to be the one to say that Dean didn’t want to do what he was suggesting...it hurt. It hurt so bad.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>You were hormonal. That’s all. It was just pre-heat hormones. You weren’t this upset and angry and half-numb about a fucking mark. Not when you already had <em>two </em>of them. It was fine. It was just...it was fine.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>Sam turned to look at you from the front seat, but Dean kept his eyes on the road. “Are you okay?”</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>“Just fine,” you answered, keeping your own eyes on the passing trees.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>“Dean,” Sam whispered and Dean’s eyes flicked to his.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>“Yeah?”</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>"We're gonna have to get a room soon."</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>You watched from the corner of your eyes as Dean’s eyes found you in the rearview. "He knows, Sam."</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>"Are you two okay?"</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>"We're fine, dude."</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>“Drop me at a pharmacy when we get where we’re stopping,” you said, calm and tone even, eyes still out the window.</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Pharmacy?” Dean asked, his voice tight.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Don’t worry about it.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Are you okay?” he asked, worry seeping into his scent.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’m okay. I just need some feminine hygiene products,” you dismissed.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Dean sighed. “Okay. We’ll go another hour and then we’ll stop for a few days.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He pulled into a CVS about an hour and a half later, telling you that he was going to be grabbing a room at the motel down the street before driving off with Sam. You grabbed a box of tampons before heading to the pharmacy counter. “How can I help you, young lady?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Could I get three boxes of your strongest hormone suppressants, please?” you asked, trying to ignore the way your stomach twisted at the request.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The old pharmacist behind the counter looked at you with sympathy. “How long ago did your Alpha pass away, sweetheart?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>If it took a lie to get what you wanted, you’d do it. You played the sad little omega part. “Couple weeks. I’m...I’ve been so focused on not falling to the broken bond that I...I didn’t realize how close I was...can’t do anything to fix this one but next time…”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Oh, dear child. I’ve got what you need. You’re so brave.” You gave the man a tight smile as he grabbed three ninety-count boxes of suppressants from the shelf behind him and brought them to the counter. “Now, these are...the percentage of omegas who develop ovarian and breast cancer with these is quite high, much higher than normal suppressants, but they will completely stop your heats.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>You nodded. That’s what you needed. “These too, please.” You set the tampons on the counter and averted your eyes as he rang you up for all four boxes of feminine products. You smiled and muttered your thanks to the man as he handed you the bag. You weren’t even out of the shop before you were swallowing a pill and shoving the packs of suppressants into the tampon box to hide them.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>You wondered, as you walked toward the motel down the street, why you were hiding the suppressants. Dean would understand, right? Strong suppressants to keep you from going into your next heat so that you didn’t have to worry about needing your alphas. Fuck the cancer possibilities. Suppressants were the best option. That way Dean didn’t feel pressured or obligated to do anything and Sam and John wouldn’t be necessary in your world. You were just doing what you had to do.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>But you weren’t going to tell him. Of course not. Why start another avoidable argument?</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Sam was waiting for you in the doorway of room 108 as you approached the motel. The Impala was not in the parking lot. “Where-” you started to ask but Sam’s averted gaze answered for you. “Left so that you could help with my heat, didn’t he?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Said he didn’t wanna see it,” Sam answered.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Whatever. I’m not in heat yet. He could have stuck around for a few hours.” You pushed past Sam into the room and picked up your duffel from the floor, shoving the plastic bag into the duffel and zipping it up.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I think you’re closer than you think you are,” Sam said, closing the door behind him. “He said he’s gonna get a room of his own.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Sure.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“What’s going on with you two?” He sprawled across the end of the bed and looked up at you. “You two were getting close again. What happened?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Nothing happened.” You shrugged. “Nothing changed. Nothing <em>will</em>.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Sam’s eyebrow went up. “What does that mean, Y/n?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I told him how I feel, how I’ve always felt...and I thought things would change, but they haven’t. They’re not going to. So, it’s...it’s fine. I’ll deal.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“He’s not going to mark you?” he guessed.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“He doesn’t <em>want </em>to mark me. He was always planning to either hand me off to you or your dad for this. It’s bad enough he marked my soul, he’s not going to mark my neck. Lucky we got back in touch with you, huh?” You weren’t going to have to worry about that in the future, though.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Sam’s lips were a tight line as you sat on the little round table. “I’m sorry, Y/n.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Ah. What kind of idiot was I to expect anything different? The fact is...only way he’d even consider marking me is to prevent a tragedy and...I’d rather be stuck in Hell on Earth than have him stuck with me when he doesn’t want it.” You pulled your legs up and crossed them as you looked over at Sam. “It’s really fine. I promise. It’ll be fine.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“He loves you. You know he-”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>You laughed. “No. I’ll give that he cares, but he doesn’t love me.” You shook your head. “Seriously. It’s fine.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Please, don’t-”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“It doesn’t matter. I won’t be having this problem again.” Sam’s eyebrows came together and you shook your head. “Don’t tell him, but...I’m going back on suppressants. Stronger ones.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“But, you don’t need to do that.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Yes, I do. I’m not doing this again. I’d have my marks and glands and <em>uterus </em>removed if I thought I could handle living that way on the road.” You picked a grass burr off the bottom hem of your jeans and tossed it to the floor, avoiding the look you were sure Sam was giving you. "I never thought I'd end up here. But all I can do is mitigate the circumstances...and that requires suppressants."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Dean's gonna mark you someday, Y/n," Sam promised quietly.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"He offered...yesterday, after seeing the future. He offered because if that future comes true...if you say 'yes' to Lucifer and John dies, I'm stuck with the Devil. He offered to mark me to keep me out of Lucifer’s hands...not because he wants to mark me." You jumped down from the table. "So I'll take that option off of the table. I'll make it where I never have another heat again if that's what it takes."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Dean's gonna notice if you take suppressants, Y/n."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Betcha he doesn't, Sam," you snapped. "I bet that he's gonna be so wrapped up in stopping the Apocalypse that he doesn't notice the dampening of my scent or the fact that I'm not gonna go into heat at Christmas time. I bet, even if he <em>does </em>notice something is a little off...he doesn’t say a word."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>You took a deep breath. “Because none of it matters. He went five years into the future and he saw that he never marked me. I was yours and I was John’s and I ended up Lucifer’s but I was never Dean’s.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“But he offered to mark you to keep you from being stuck with Lucifer. He wanted to mark you, Y/n.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“He didn’t want me attached to the Devil, Sammy. That’s it.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“He doesn’t want you attached to anybody.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Not even him.” You shrugged and leaned down to take your boots off. “I’m gonna get some rest. Hopefully get some good sleep in before the fever hits, okay?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Yeah.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The fever hit like a Mack truck at around 11:30 at night, burning along your limbs like flames licking at you. Cramps across your midsection made you fold in on yourself, but you kept quiet about it. You didn’t make a sound. You were hoping Sam would sleep through it. You could feel him on the floor beside the bed, could hear the sound of his deep breathing. You didn’t want him. You didn’t want to need him. You wanted to suffer.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>For a few hours, you stayed curled in on yourself under the hot motel comforter, drowning in fever and agony, trying to keep your breathing even and slow so that Sam would stay asleep. But around 3am, the cramps grew too painful and a whimper tore from your chest. Sam groaned and sat up, running a hand through his hair. “Y/n? Why didn’t you wake me up?” he asked, standing and leaning over you.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“It hurts, Sam,” you whined, hugging yourself tight.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I know,” Sam whispered, running his hand down your cheek. “I’m so sorry. But I’ll make it better.” His fingers tucked into the comforter and pulled it down and off of your body. “Shit. You’re burning up, Y/n. Maybe I should get you in a shower first.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“No. Just do it.” Sam sighed and reached for your shirt, but you slapped his hand away and pulled your jeans and underwear off instead. “I don’t need to be naked. Just do what you have to do,” you said, forcing yourself onto your hands and knees to present for him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I do-don’t know how I feel about doing what you obviously-”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>You rolled your eyes at him. “Suddenly, you don’t want to do something I don’t want?” you snapped, flipping over and glaring at him. “Suddenly, you give a damn about consent?” He said your name and you flashed with rage before you pushed him away from you. “Get the hell out of here, then. If you’re not gonna help me, go the fuck away! I don’t want you anyway.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>You rolled off the bed as he stood, staring dumbfounded as you stomped toward the bathroom, peeling your sweat-soaked shirt and bra off as you went. The cold shower did nothing to help your pain, but it brought the fever down...and that was enough. The fever is what would boil your brain and kill you. The pain was just pain. You could handle pain.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Y/n?” Dean’s voice came through the bathroom door after a while and you shook at the sound of him. “Baby, what are you doing?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>You reached out to turn off the spray of water and turned your body slightly toward the door. “Go. Away. I g-got this,” you stuttered.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You don’t got this,” he argued. “You sent Sam away?! Are you crazy?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>You gasped as a cramp tore through you. “I’m <em>not </em>crazy. I’m just fucking tired of being tr-treated like this. I d-didn’t w-want Sam to knot me anyway so...I’ll just k-keep the fever down and g-get through this.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“What, are you gonna stay in a cold shower for your whole heat?” Dean growled and the sound made you flinch. “You can’t be serious, Y/n! This is-”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Yes! I am serious!” you shouted. “And I will stay in this shower until I feel like a human being again and you can go the fuck away! This is my choice! This is <em>my </em>body and it’s my choice and I don’t want your brother and I don’t want your father and I just want a damn shower and for you to go away! If I smell either of you again before my heat is over, I’m going to shoot you both!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Son of a <em>bitch</em>!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>You reached out and turned the cold tap back on as soon as you heard the door slam behind Dean. He didn’t understand...and he didn’t have to. This would be your last heat. You were done letting your gender be used against you.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Three days in agony gave way to an uncomfortable fourth morning. You were able to take a hot shower and clean yourself thoroughly. You brushed your teeth for the first time in days and brushed your hair before packing your duffel bag and zipping it up. You pulled your phone off of the side table and flipped it open. You had texts from each of the Winchesters. They were checking on you, even John from wherever the hell he was, and that made you feel a bit better.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>You tapped out a quick response to John’s text, telling him you were fine, before typing a text to Dean that you were hungry and you were going to go to the diner down the street from the motel to get yourself some breakfast.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>You were drinking your coffee when the diner door opened and Dean and Sam walked in. They both looked completely relieved to see you up and about.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Hey!" you greeted with a smile. "Ordered waffles and coffee and an omelet. Plenty of bacon for you, Dean."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>They took the bench on the other side of the booth and looked across the table at you.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Are you okay?" Dean asked quietly, eyes appraising your face.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I'm great, actually. I feel awesome. I feel like I'm in charge of my own life for the first time since Sam bit me."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You're in charge and chose <em>pain</em>?" Dean's eyes shined with sympathy but you just smiled.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Yep!" You slid your coffee across the table to Dean and smiled. "I chose three days of pain over being knotted by someone I don't want as my alpha. Honestly, it was...purifying."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Puri-" Dean shook his head and picked up the coffee. "Well...long as you're happy, I guess. Can we expect this purification ritual to go down next time, too?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Sam averted his eyes, obviously thinking the same thought about the suppressants in your bag.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Not gonna be a problem, Dean. Promise."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Okay, 'cause I don't wanna have to spend another three days knowing you're hurting and refusing the help available, Y/n/n."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>You let out a sigh and shook your head. "Look, I was going to take the help available, Dean, but things changed...and it's not gonna be a problem again so…" You smiled brightly and turned in the booth, leaning back against the side of the booth and stretching your legs out across the seat. "You guys find a job while I was sick or do I gotta take care of that, too?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>There was a moment of silence before Dean nodded. "Yeah. We found something. We can pack and get out of here when we're done with breakfast."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Cool."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The 'something' they found seemed to be a spirit, but the family wouldn't let you into the house to look around. Things with both brothers were a little strained, which you understood as you had put a pretty substantial wedge between yourself and them, but you had to. You worked far too hard for too many years to be a strong omega and you needed to be that woman again.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’m gonna head to the bar while y’all try to sweet talk Mrs. Dumas into letting you EMF the house. Text me when you find out what’s going on.” You didn’t give either alpha a chance to argue, but you could see the alarm on Dean’s face at the idea of you going to a bar by yourself.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>You were sitting at the bar, a beer in front of you, when you smelled John’s scent. “Hello, John.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You on the Dumas thing?” John asked, taking the stool beside you. His approach was tentative, his entire aura apprehensive.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Yup.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“And where are Dean and Sammy?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Iunno. Motel, vic’s house...some other bar.” You shrugged. “It’s not my job to keep tabs. I’m not their mother.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>John scoffed and chuckled. "Didn't take long."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"What?" You cut your eyes at him and shook your head once.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"The attitude is back." He put up his hand to order a beer and smiled at you. "The take-no-shit attitude you had before my sons wore you down with oppressive guilt."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Pretty sure I still had that attitude when you hit me, John."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Nah. The old you wouldn’t have stopped at kneeing me in the balls and punching me back. The woman you were at twenty-two, when you were taking down alphas in bars with Singer cheering you on? She woulda castrated me." You shrugged, bouncing your head a bit from right to left as you considered his words. At least he could see where you were trying to get back to. "You should have taken a knife to me, Darlin'. It's the least of what I deserve."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>You picked your beer up with two fingers and nodded. "Yeah. Shoulda. Didn’t."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Sam texted me the other day...said you kicked him out when you went into heat," John said as the bartender set his beer down. "Do you wanna talk to me about it?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>You hummed. "Okay. Sure. But first, gotta examine some side spots...because they inform what happened, okay? So you know what I was like before, right, but do you know <em>why</em>? Do you know why I was the baddest motherfucking omega hunter in the world? Why I refused to bow to my genetics and be dainty and sweet and chose to become a warrior? Because of you...all three of you...but mostly because of Dean."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>John nodded. It made sense. "I fucked you and he rejected me and the idea that is implanted in a girl from the earliest of ages: homemaker, mother, wife, lover...it all went up in smoke. I knew, the moment Dean said 'no', I knew that that was never going to be my life...and I was happy. I was free, John, from the constraints of societal expectations. I was gonna be a badass hunter and die young and leave no one behind to mourn me and that was exactly what I wanted."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"And then Dean changed his mind?" John guessed.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Yeah. And all the anger I put up and all the coldness I cultivated started to get washed away in him and then he fucking put me off on Sam and then you showed up and I went with you and-"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"And that’s when they started making you feel like an omega."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Their omega. Their kept thing. Their pet. Their toy on the worst days. Sam started in with the blood when Dean went down and...he was not good to me, as you know, and the whole point of putting his mark on my neck was so that I would need him. He broke me further, made things worse...and now, now that he's not on the blood anymore, now he's regrown his fucking conscience," you spat. "So I needed him, because he <em>made </em>me need him but because I didn’t want him, and I have never really wanted him, John, he got all 'maybe we should deal with your fever first. I don’t know how I feel about knotting you when you don't want me to' and then he got all offended that I told him to get out. He got offended that I chose pain over begging for him to give me something I didn't want." You rolled your eyes. "Fuck him."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>John thought for a minute before taking a drink of his beer. "Sounds like my sons need a refresher on how to deal with the consequences of their actions.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Oh and Dean offered to mark me...just so that the Devil doesn’t have a chance to get me when you die in four years.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You turned him down?” John asked, turning on the stool. “After all these years of pining over him, you told him not to?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Hardest words to ever come out of my mouth, John, but...yeah.” You chuckled ruefully and nodded. “Only mark I ever really wanted and I told him ‘no’ because-”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“He didn’t want to mark you. I don’t know why. I’ve asked him and I still don’t know why he doesn’t want to mark you.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Does it really matter why? We <em>all </em>know he doesn’t want to so...he’s not going to. So, if that future comes true and you die and Sam says ‘yes’...well, there won’t be anyone to stop me cuttin’ out his mark this time. I’ll keep myself from getting mixed up with Lucifer...one way or the other.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>John nodded. “All this is why you’re on suppressants again?” Your eyes snapped to his and he gave a small shrug. “You smell different.”</p>
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  <p>You scoffed and rolled your eyes. He had part of your soul, it was dumb to think he didn’t know...which meant that Dean definitely knew or would figure it out soon. “Yeah. This is why I’m back on the suppressants.”</p>
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  <p>"Suppressants mean you won't need me or Sammy anymore...and new-old attitude means you're willing to let us rot when it's our time." You opened your mouth to argue against the idea of letting them rot, but John nodded appreciatively. “What we deserve.”</p>
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  <p>The man was good at owning the consequences of his actions. “Ya know...we all get angry, John. We all get stressed. We don’t all take it out on the people we care about.”</p>
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  <p>“I know...and I could offer excuses, but I don’t really have any good ones.” He shook his head. “Ya know, I never used to explode like that. Even when I was a young alpha, full of testosterone and Marine machismo, all that ‘oorah energy’...Mary and I used to fight a lot, but I never blew up on her like that. It was different back then. After...after Azazel...no, ya know, since that first hunt with Jim...I’ve been so full of fear and anger, irrational amounts of it and I don’t know where it all comes from. I just know it’s there...and it took me years to learn to control it with the boys, Sam had to go away to college and...and maybe becoming young again helped, but…”</p>
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  <p>He ran his hand through his hair and ran his tongue along the bottom lip before sighing. “I was doing better...until the world started crashing down around me. I couldn’t breathe and everything filled in with rage and you...you ended up the target of it and I am so, so sorry, Y/n.”</p>
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  <p>You reached out and put your hand over his, searching his hazel eyes for truth. “Fuck,” you whispered as a flash of a memory went through you. “You’re an idiot.” His eyebrows came together as you squeezed his hand a little. “You cannot respond to a panic attack with violence, John.”</p>
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  <p>“Panic attack? Who said anything about a p-”</p>
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  <p>“You don’t even recognize what’s going on in your own fucking body.” You rolled your eyes. “You’re an old man and you never put it together that the feeling of the world crashing down around you...the adrenaline that courses through you, the feeling like you can’t breathe even as you’re pulling air into your lungs, the irrational anger...Jesus Christ, John, you’ve probably been having these angry panic attacks since you discovered the truth of the world. Dean’s been having them since he was a kid.”</p>
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  <p>You sighed and set your hand on his stubbled cheek. You could feel that he was legitimately confused at the revelation that his bursts of anger might be connected to some panic disorder. Not that it was enough to absolve him. It wasn’t an excuse...but it <em>was </em>a reason.</p>
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  <p>“Look, that’s obviously...not an excuse, John, but...I think if you know why it happened, ya know...I think you can keep it from happening again if you know why it happened.”</p>
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  <p>John reached up and covered your hand with his. “Once was bad enough. Once was too many times. Girl, I’m sorry.”</p>
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  <p>You smiled softly. “I accept, John. I accept your apology this time.” Relief and guilt went through him and you felt it. “And you should stick around for this hunt.”</p>
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  <p>“Can’t imagine Dean wants to see me, sweetheart.”</p>
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  <p>You chuckled. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but uh...I’ve reached a very special stage of ‘I do not give a fuck’. Four of the best hunters on the planet, working together...well, that’s a recipe for success, isn’t it? I think…” You pulled your hand away from his face and picked up your beer. “If Dean has trouble with it, he can take it up with me.”</p>
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  <p>John smiled softly. “I like you like this. All fire and poison. Just how you should be."</p>
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  <p>"Just how I used to be," you responded.</p>
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  <p>~~~~~</p>
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  <p>"No. Get the fuck out,” Dean demanded as soon as John entered the room. “And why the fuck are you around her in the first-”</p>
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  <p>“Shut up, Dean,” you snapped, closing the door behind the eldest Winchester. “He showed up for the job and we’re not going to turn him away just because you have a problem with him.”</p>
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  <p>“<em>I </em>have a problem with him? Why don’t <em>you </em>have a problem with him? He <em>hit </em>you!”</p>
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  <p>“Yes, he did...and I’ve opted to forgive him, as is my prerogative. Are you going to tell me I can’t forgive him?” Your tone was a challenge and Dean glared at you before turning away. “John doesn’t get a pass on what he did but I’m not sending him away just because you’re threatened by him.”</p>
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  <p>Dean’s eyes went wide as he turned back to you. “I’m <em>threatened</em>? What, by him? Why would I be threatened by-”</p>
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  <p>“Same reason I am, Dean. He’s connected to her...and he was her first,” Sam muttered, looking away from his brother.</p>
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  <p>“Don’t remind me,” Dean bit out.</p>
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  <p>"Proving my point, Dean. Thank you." You sat on the edge of the closest bed and started to pull your boots off. "Look, I'm sorry if I've upset you, but I'm not backing off on this. John deserves to be around for this hunt and he deserves to be around me more than Sam does, so…"</p>
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  <p>"Sam didn't backhand you for having a poor attitude," Dean argued.</p>
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  <p>"No, Sam got high on Ruby's blood, chased me down, marked me and was planning to forcibly breed me. I am just fine to be around him...I'm just fine to be around John, too."</p>
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  <p>Dean growled, low in his chest, and stood. "Can I talk to you?" He walked into the bathroom without waiting for your response and you calmly finished taking your boots off before following him. He was leaning on the edge of the bathroom counter, arms crossed over his chest and eyes on his feet. You shut the door and leaned back against it. "What the hell are you doing?" he whispered.</p>
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  <p>"Pretty sure I was clear in there. I'm-"</p>
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  <p>"Ya know, ever since I got back from Zach's future, you've been holding me at arm's length and now you’re bringing my dad back in so are you trying to tell me somethin', Y/n, because if so, just fucking come out and say it."</p>
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  <p>"I brought your dad back in because I spent ten minutes in a bar with him and he knew exactly what the hell I'm doing, Dean." His eyebrow went high and you ran your tongue along the inside of your cheek before continuing. "I miss the old me. I miss who I was before Hell. I miss who I was before you showed up in my motel room smelling like Cassie Robinson and convinced me to come back to fuck you and Sam."</p>
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  <p>"That was <em>your </em>idea!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Because I knew you were gonna keep pushing me at him either way! At least in a pack I'd get to have you sometimes! You're the one I wanted!" you whispered fiercely. You scratched your fingers across your brow and sighed. "I'm sick of feeling like my secondary gender rules my life. I'm sick of it. So, I'm done. Sam and John will be around so I don't get sick and I'll take a few days' to myself when they go into rut."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"And what about me? Where does that leave us? With you still keeping me at a distance?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I'm not keeping you away," you argued softly. "I'm just not letting you do something you'll definitely regret just because you're scared. I think 'fear of the future' is probably a really shitty reason to start a relationship." You pushed off from the door and looked up into his eyes.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I still love you and I am never going to stop loving you, Dean, so where does this leave us?" You shrugged. "That’s up to you."</p>
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  <p>His eyes went glassy with unshed tears as he looked down at you. His arms were suddenly around you, pulling you hard against his chest. "It doesn’t matter if you never let me mark you. I don't need you to be my omega, Y/n," he whispered to the space above your head. His arms tightened around you. "But I need you. I've lost you too many times. To Dad and Sam and Hell and-and I can't do it again. If we're going down, Y/n, I want it to be with you. I always wanna be with you."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I'm not going anywhere, D. I'm right here," you whispered back, wrapping your arms around him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He sniffled and nodded. "I know. I know. I just...don't think I don’t like you like this, baby. I missed you, too. This you. The badass bitch who won't take any shit...who won't take my shit."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>You nodded against his chest. This was good. The wedge was removed. You had Dean, you could maintain yourself. You had Dean and Dean had you...and you had you.</p>
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